Special to no one,
except myself...
Yet far from ordinary.
You're welcome to share my crayons,
And come color with me.
But don't tell me where the rainbow ends,
Or what color the Skyy should be...
Comments
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This is lovely. And I agree 100 percent! How we see the world is peculiar to us, and no one has a right to tell us how to see it or live it. The spelling "skyy" adds a reminder that the poem is a personal one.



